Trust Me
by Live to anger the World
Summary: Harry has never told anyone what goes on at the Dursley's.Does his silence come from obeying his uncle, or from his own stubborn pride? Will an unlikely ally be able to save him from it all? Warning:SLASH!
1. Step One: Let Go

Title: Trust Me

Author: Live to anger the World

Word Count: 369

Warning: Slash, violence, and other crap I'm not sure of yet….

Disclaimer: I own IN NO WAY Harry Potter. I'm just borrowing characters, twisting their minds and purposes, and then returning them nicely to be untangled.

A/N: So this is just something that came to me while I was _trying_ to sleep in. My mind, my muse, and my mom have it in for me.

~**LINE BREAK~**

He never told. It wasn't just that he wasn't allowed to. He was embarrassed. Embarrassed that he, Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, was being abused by his muggle relatives. It didn't matter that he wasn't allowed to use his wand, due to the law against under age magic. He should be fighting back. Shouldn't he?

Harry can't tell anymore. He can't think straight. The beating he had just undergone was the worst one he'd been dealt so far. Harry feels like the Crutciatus Curse was magnified, and then set on him. It probably wouldn't be as bad if he had had time to heal from yesterday's beating and subsequent chores.

Harry's mind is wandering to places it would be better off avoiding. He wonders, as he lays there bleeding, what he ever did to deserve this. He saved the Wizarding World, he got fairly good grades, he did what he was told, and he never, ever told what went on in 4 Privet Drive.

It hurts so badly, but darkness was starting to descend upon him. It was nothing new, to loose consciousness after a particularly brutal beating. The pain would leave Harry's body soon, if only for a little while. He notices that this darkness feels different than usual. It feels like an end. An end to the pain and hopelessness. An end to the thoughts that his subconscious drags up. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he deserves this.

Harry had these thoughts every time he returned to 4 Privet Drive. He had been the cause of so many deaths (_Cedric)_, and had only managed to prevent others with help (_Sirius)_. The thought that, maybe Uncle Vernon was right. Maybe it is all his fault.

Now, maybe he had caused his own death. The darkness is closing in. Harry can no longer feel the hard under him, or the sticky feeling of the blood he is lying in. His _own_ blood. He is going under, and he _welcomes_ it. The last thing Harry heard was a _POP!_ that sounded much like the sound an apparation gives off. Harry's last thought is, 'But it's not an apparation. It can't be.' Then the darkness is all that's left.

~**LINE BREAK~**

A/N: Anyone know how to have fan fiction. net _**NOT **_get rid of your line breaks?


	2. Step Two: Forgive And Forget

Disclaimer: "Dear Lawyers. Can I own Harry Potter for a day?" No? Then crap. I guess I don't Own Harry Potter.

* * *

_**Pain!**_ _Wake up…hurts…Aunt Petunia's gonna kill me…pain…slept too long…__**hurts**__…get up…__**Pain**__…too much…__**HURTS**__…unh…Who's that?_

"…he wake up?"

"I'm not sure. He lost most of his blood. I've given him some transfusions, but he received major trauma to his head, kidneys, and…reproductive organs, as well as liquid in his left lung and severe internal bleeding. That's just the beginning! He's half dead Albus. Right now, I'm not sure if he'll wake up at all."

"Poppy dear, keep trying. He can't die. He…"

The voices faded again. In the back of his mind, Harry knew he should try to hear what they were saying. The darkness was back though…and it was so comforting…if he just stayed in it for a little while…not long enough for anyone to notice…

* * *

Albus looked down at the battered and broken Brat-Who-Lived. Madame Pomfery bustled around the Hogwarts infirmary. _How did things go so wrong?_ It was going so well. Harry was being the perfect Savior. He was in Gryffindor, he rushed headlong into danger. He never showed signs of abuse, just like Albus knew he wouldn't. That's why he knew it was safe to put him with the Dursleys to begin with. So how did it get to this?

* * *

**Earlier That Day**

"Enter."

Dumbledore looked up to see Professor McGonagall come through the door to his office. His customary offer of candy dies along with his smile as he sees the worry with which the normally calm witch walks.

"The special wards we put on Harry's house are down." McGonagall says without hesitation, replying to the questioning look in Dumbledore's eyes. He pales, knowing this means the worst. Either Harry somehow managed to run away, or he was in serious trouble.

"The Ministry would have been alerted. Go back to your office and fire-call Minister Fudge. Tell him that we are handling this. There is nothing else you can do here." he says in a grave voice. _If Potter is dead, then the world is doomed. Both worlds._

* * *

_What now?_ Potions Master Severus Snape stalks over to his fireplace. "Yes? I'm quite busy with brewing a volatile potion at the moment. Can whatever menial task you have for me not wait until I'm done?" He knew he was being irritable, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was _wrong_ and, having no idea what was making him feel this way, he was getting jumpy. And that's not good when you're making potions.

"The protection wards around Mr. Potter's house have vanished. I need you to go see what happened." the Headmaster said sternly.

_Why me?_ He nodded and turned to leave, grabbing some potions along the way. Just in case. When he reached the school gate, he apparated, having seen the house that Lily grew up in a few times before.

At 4 Privet Drive, Snape paused. Everything was so disgustingly matching and _normal_. He stood there, trying to figure out how he would get through the door, when the feeling came back. Something was very, very wrong. Suddenly he found himself looking down at Harry Potter, the Bloody-Brat-Who-Wouldn't-Die, in shock. Quickly grabbing him, he found himself apparating. Directly into the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts! _That should have been impossible._ His thoughts are cut off by a gasp from his left.

* * *

Poppy Pomfery was used to blood and bruises. She could deal with broken bones and upset stomachs. She's the Hogwarts nurse! But she still was not prepared to see Severus Snape appear in the middle of the Hospital Wing, holding a blood drenched body. She was even less prepared for who the body turned out to be when she got a look at his face after starting to patch him up. Harry Potter.

* * *

**Present**

"_Black cat, white cat_

_Running cross my path"_

_Wha? _The boy didn't open his eyes yet. Didn't think he was able to in fact.

"_Look up, look right_

_Don't turn back"_

He couldn't tell where he was, wasn't even sure who he was. He couldn't remember _anything_ like that. So what was that song?

"_Stay strong, go fast_

_Won't hold my breathe"_

He can't think! It's as if the only thing he can remember…is part of some stupid childish song!

"_Black cat, white cat_

_Nothing's left!"_

Everything stopped at that. _I'm sure it will come back to me later._ Then it all was black.

* * *

A/N:I want to say that I'm sosososososososososoooooooooo sorry for not updating. I almost never find my muse after I lose it. But with the reviews I got, all the people who put me on story alert and favorite story list, and the one person who favorite author'd me. You all have me fighting to find and hold my inspiration. So thanks! And I hope you liked it!

~Anger~


	3. Step Three: Feel Safe

Chapter Title: _Step Three: Feel Safe_

Word Count: _755_

Disclaimer: _Not mine, I have no time for it._

A/N at end for those who wonder why I've been gone for...three(?) years.

* * *

***3****rd**** Person POV***

Everything is dark. That's the first thing the Boy notices. Slowly, other sensations filter into his consciousness. Cool air, something soft wrapped around him, the sound of breathing. The Boy doesn't understand why that last one bothers him, makes something inside jar with warning bells, screaming _'Don't open your eyes!' _He keeps them closed. Straining to listen for reasons he can't contemplate, he hears a sigh and a shuffle, clothe rustling, and…footsteps? There should be footsteps, loud heavy ones. And why was he so comfortable? The Boy can't remember feeling comfort before. Is this comfort? How can one name a feeling they've never felt?

At the sound of a door shutting, the small figure shoots up on the bed, eyes the color of shadowed emeralds darting around wildly. Bandaged hands reach out through the dim light to snag handfuls of white curtain. Tugging that aside with a too loud swish, the head topped with dark scruffy hair swivels to survey the room, full of empty metal beds with tucked-tight white sheets. _'Cold'_ was all this child could think, the moon washing through the large windows to make the sterile, clinical room look even more impersonal.

Now, a room like this would be hard to wake up in on a good day. The Boy isn't having a particularly good day. He feels lost, and afraid; not knowing where to go or what to do, but not wanting to stay there in the frigid open emptiness. He sees a door at the other end of the room, two doors actually, but one gives off a "cold" feeling, so he doesn't count it. Scrambling towards the other door, he hears voices coming from the cold one, getting closer. Strange voices, angry voices, and as he feels the panic embrace him, that door starts to open. And then everything lurches and changes with the feeling of being shrunk and stretched at the same time.

The Boy falls to the floor, stomach heaving, gasping for air. He looks around wildly, but only finds darkness. This isn't the darkness of the cold room, he could still kind of see there. This is a darkness that barely yields shapes or outlines, even as his eyes adjust to the sudden change in location. Stretching out hands once more, he feels walls, very close, and a door on one side. Strange shelves with clanking objects line the others. As the Boy sinks to rest on the floor again, a feeling of safety wraps him in exhaustion, and he curls up to sleep.

He has no idea of the panic occurring on the other side of the castle-school know as Hogwarts.

* * *

***Scene Change***

"How can he be missing?!" one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, wants to yell. Instead he stares at Madame Pomfrey, the twinkle noticeably absent from his eyes, and waits for her to explain. The medi-witch, looking confused for one of the few times in her career, is examining the wards around an empty bed in her hospital wing. She finally turns to face the Headmaster, almost flinching at the look in his eyes.

"It would appear that Mr. Potter simply woke up, walked through the wards, and vanished."

"I was under the impression, Mdm. Pomfrey, that the wards would stick him to the bed to prevent exactly this situation!" Dumbledore speaks coldly, his voice unintentionally rising at the end of his half query, half reprimand.

"They should have! And even if, for some reason Mr. Potter was capable of breaking the wards _without his wand_, he shouldn't be conscious." she defends. At his raised eyebrow, Poppy Pomfrey's eyes darken and her gaze latches firmly on to Dumbledore's, anger simmering beneath the surface. "I fixed his body to the best of my abilities, and Severus's too! His mind was broken, brain scans were necessary. We had to hook into a bloody muggle device to monitor his mind! I'm sorry to say, that when I came to get you earlier, it was to inform you that Mr. Potter's brain was no longer functioning. He was brain dead Albus! No longer there! He held on for almost a week, and then tonight his brain's waves became erratic, and then they just…" her hands, which have been moving to emphasize her point still and drop in a helpless gesture as her voice cracks. She whispers the last word on a breath as her eyes dart away from the bearded man in front of her.

_"Stopped."_

* * *

**A/N & ****Explanation**

Okay, so in the past three years, a lot has happened. Since I last posted a chapter, Aug 18, 2011, my mom died from cancer, my depression got bad (still working on that), I got a boyfriend for the first time and was trying to figure that out, my mom's dog died, I've had three years of high school, and just general rl business has kept me from writing ANYTHING. This summer I finally had some time while in driver's ed to write, so I did. I can't guarantee that I won't disappear for little points in time since this is my senior year and it's already kind of hectic (even though school _just. started._) but I already have the next chapter written and waiting to be typed and am working on more in my spare time, what little I have. And I do get sick a lot, so that gives me days off school to try to write when my head's on straight. Sorry again to anyone and everyone who has been waiting on this chapter for years, and I hope it's still good!

A bientot!


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